Page 97 of Missed Sunrise
The soft caressof morning light tried to wake me gently, bless her, but I still full-body twitched like a horror movie extra upon waking.
On some level, I must have understood the most important facts—I was alone and there was no Liem Lott in my arms—because before I even knew what I was doing, I shot out of bed and hurried to the window. My eyes watered against the light as I searched the front yard of the cottage as if there would be an obvious sign to his whereabouts.
There wasn’t.
Releasing a breath, I ran a hand down my face and turned to the room for clues, my heart still galloping from my unnecessarily violent start.
Had he already gone back to Gulf Shores?
My bracelets had ridden up my arm, and I shoved them down as I glanced around, trying to wake enough to function.
Liem’s room.
I was in Liem’s room without adult supervision, the thing I’d wished for just last night. And now that I had it, I just wanted him to come back. Pressing my hand into my chest and willing my heart to calm the fuck down, I looked around the room, from the custom cabinets and shelves to the dresser in the corner.
There was a place for everything, but everything also had an edge of the unexpected.
Like the mobile of preserved flowers that hung above his desk and all the blankets, no two alike with varying textures and patterns, that were folded in stacks as well as draped across nearly every surface.
There were dozens of sketch pads stored in the shelves under the window, and a bunch of canvases situated against the wall.
A song danced across my mind as I stared at them.
Some of these things are not like the others.
My gaze was stuck on those canvases. They were ominous—the ones with their backs turned to me. They were arranged too neatly.
Their aura was thick and fucked up.
I took a hesitant step toward them just as a car door slammed somewhere in the neighborhood, and my body jolted as my soul fled to somewhere near the ozone.
I didn’t even know what the ozone was. I may have made that up.
Taking the interruption as divine intervention, I walked closer to the unmade bed, intending to tidy it up for some reason, but once I had my hand on the sheets, I froze.
I didn’t want to erase the evidence of what had happened. I didn’t want to cover up the obvious indent of where I’d been. Where Liem had been.
I eyed the spray can of sealant among Liem’s craft supplies, but then a dog barked, and I blinked back to sanity, the mania clearing.
Instead of doing something insane, I grabbed my phone from Liem’s desk and took a photo of the bed, like a normal person.
Normal-ish.
And then some of the room. From a few angles.
Satisfied, I eyed his chest of drawers for a long moment before scooping up my discarded shirt and slipping it over my head. Then I headed to the bathroom to answer the call of nature, noting along the way that the house seemed to be vacant.
Once I’d washed my hands, I peeked in the shower and spotted Cher’s fancy face soap. With a smirk, I helped myself to some and washed my face at the sink, feeling more alive with each minty bubble.
After I patted my face dry, I slipped on my slides and followed my instincts, heading toward the gazebo.
It wasn’t until I was on the sidewalk and had to move aside for a runner that I realized I’d accidentally blown off this morning’s run with my dad. Feeling guilty as fuck, I took my phone out and pulled myself over. Leaning against a speed limit sign, I saw what I’d missed when I’d opened my phone earlier.
The first was a text from Dad saying he’d had an extra late night at Fortuna and was moving his rest day to today, but I was welcome to come for breakfast. My guilt eased some then, but it did prompt me to set a daily alarm so it wouldn’t happen again after I sent him a quick response.
With that done, I started on the other messages.
Cher
